


What Might Have Been

by Wolfsong6913



Series: Memories on the Edge [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Memory Loss, Past life, Plans For The Future, Plothole Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsong6913/pseuds/Wolfsong6913
Summary: High Priestess Haggar meets Prince Lotor for the first time. Emperor Zarkon looks like he expected her to know of him already. Is there something else going on that she does not know about?





	What Might Have Been

She remembered the first time she had met Lotor.

Zarkon had summoned her to his private chambers. It was not an unusual occurrence; he often wished to discuss some new project, or see how an older one was going. But when she had arrived, instead of sitting in his lounge, or at one of his large tables, he had led her to a small, adjacent chamber. No more than a closet, really. And inside the chamber was - 

Haggar narrowed her glowing yellow eyes. Was that a baby?

“High Priestess Haggar,” Zarkon said, striding over to the cradle in the corner of the room, and lifting a small bundle from it. “This is my son, Prince Lotor.” 

He held the child out towards her, and she took it, awkwardly cradling it in the crook of her arm, unsure what to do with the individual limbs and limp, floppy head. The child stared at her with sleepy eyes - yellow, like all Galra, but with a dark-blue pupil and iris that was becoming rapidly more and more rare. He had hair, she noticed. Smooth, soft white tufts. And his chubby fingers that tried to grab at her hanging hair were soft and clawless.

“Who is his mother, sire?” she questioned. “This is not a full-Galra child.”

Zarkon was looking at her oddly. As if he had hoped something would happen. What could he possibly be expecting? She handed the child back to him and rubbed her hands clean on her robe. 

“His mother is… dead,” Zarkon said slowly. “She… Have you heard of the Altean alchemist Honerva?”

“An Altean?” Haggar jerked her head up to meet Zarkon’s glowing purple eyes. “Why would you have child with an Altean? Did you not swear revenge on them for the destruction of Daibazaal?”

“You yourself are Altean, Haggar,” Zarkon rumbled. 

Haggar curled her thin lips in a snarl. “I am Galra at heart,” she snapped. No, she would never claim allegiance to a race that had destroyed her lord’s home. Her loyalty was to Zarkon, and his enemies were hers as well. “I have heard of Honerva,” she informed her lord curtly. “Her studies on quintessense are… adequate.” They were actually quite good, but Haggar would never award excellence to an Altean.

“Yes, well,” Zarkon turned his back to lay the child back in the crib. His back hunched uncomfortably. “She was his mother.”

“Hmm.” Haggar watched the child noncommittally. She would have to keep an eye on him.

“Haggar.”

“What is it, sire?” she answered vaguely, still watching the child. It’s face was scrunching up. Was it going to cry?

“What did you do this pheab?”

The child was crying. It was very distracting. Haggar remained silent, doing her best to think past the noise. Her memory was… patchy. She remembered nothing from before that time, less than one decapheeb ago, when she had woken in an empty room, next to her lord, with so many sounds and sights and _that bright, bright light that no one else could see_ that had made her head pound and her body shake. But even after she had awoken, her memories continued to be at odds. It was getting better - she was beginning to remember entire pheebs before she blanked, but the last while was… Empty. She had no clue what she’d done. 

Quiznak. She would have to read all her lab’s logs again to figure out where she was in her current experiment.

“Haggar?”

“I have been continuing my experiments as per your requests, sire,” Haggar replied. That was the most likely thing to have happened. “I have made great progress.” Less likely, but it sounded nice to say. “Why do you ask?”

“It is no matter.”

Zarkon almost sounded… disappointed? Haggar stared at him thoughtfully, but could see nothing in his expression. His jaw tightened as he noticed her staring, and he turned back to the cradle. 

“The child needs someone to care for him,” he said.

Haggar narrowed her eyes. “You are not asking me, sire. I cannot have a child in my labs.”

“No,” Zarkon said quickly. Too quickly. “No, Priestess, you cannot. But the child has much quintessense. Like his par… Father. Like his father. He would outlive any caretaker of his before he is ready to be on his own.”

Haggar looked at the boy again, with more interest this time. She allowed her eyes to unfocus, finding it, as usual, frighteningly easy to slip into that zone where she saw the quintessense of others. Zarkon blazed, as he did, with a light so white she could not look directly at him. A glimpse of her own arm revealed a light no less brilliant - brighter, if anything. And when she turned her head to look at Lotor, she was surprised to see that he too, glowed brightly. A lesser light, perhaps than her and Zarkon - but only faintly. 

“You are right, sire,” she said, blinking rapidly as she struggled to rid herself of the vision - it gave her excruciating headaches, and made her feel sick to her stomach if she could not see things normally for a while. “The child is very strong. What do you wish me to do about this? I cannot strip a being of its quintessense without killing it.”

“No,” Zarkon agreed. “But you can add quintessense to being to extend its lifespan, correct?”

“I have never done such a thing myself,” Haggar said slowly. “But such a hypothesis does match some of the things I have read…”

There was a space when neither of them spoke. Only the baby’s wails broke the silence. Haggar’s ears twitched in discomfort. Would the child ever be silent?

“I believe I can attempt such a thing,” she said in an effort to distract herself. “I cannot guarantee the results, but I can try.”

“That would be good.” Zarkon relaxed slightly at her words. “I will look into finding a nursemaid for him, and I will bring her to you when I find her.”

Haggar bowed her head. “As you wish, sire.” 

Zarkon took a deep breath. He turned his head slightly toward the child, but did not break eye contact with Haggar. “And as for presenting him to the empire…”

Haggar frowned. “The empire is fragile, my lord,” she said. "You have many enemies whom you have not yet crushed. Let him grow old enough to wield a blade before every assassin in the universe knows who he is and where he dwells."

Zarkon lowered his gaze to the child. His cries had dwindled now into fussy sobs, and he had one purple fist clenched in his mouth. “You speak wisely,” he murmured. “I will swear all who know to secrecy.”

He does not have to ask her. They both already know what her answer will be.

She glanced over her shoulder at the door. “If you will excuse me, I must attend to my lab.”

“Of course.” Zarkon stepped around her and opened the door. “Let us go.”

As Haggar followed him out of the room, the child’s cries grated at her ears. For an instant, a flood of sensations filled her mind. She felt an urge to stop, to turn, to go to the child and lift him and comfort him, and make him happy and content. She wanted to soothe him.She wanted - 

What did she want?

But she was Haggar. And so she followed her lord without looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to JadeClover for the the phrase: Let him grow old enough to wield a blade before every assassin in the universe knows who he is and where he dwells."
> 
> I hope this makes sense to everyone who reads. In essence, it's my headcanon for how Lotor's nanny is still around from his childhood, and also why Haggar did not know Lotor was her son, despite her appearance as Haggar at the time of his birth.
> 
> As always, please comment, tell me what you thought, and feel free to critique politely!


End file.
